Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Twenty Two

To say that everything was slowly starting to spiral out of control, is... Actually pretty accurate. The others were surprised Scott hadn't panicked yet while meeting Stiles, and Melissa was simply screwed while trying to keep the sheriff in the dark. Melissa was fairing sort of well, while Scott reeked of panic.

He just barely managed to tell Stiles his name without breaking down in tear. They went down the row, telling him their names. Once the (awkward) introductions were done, they all walked over to their cars. Stiles went with Derek alone, and though the car ride was painfully silent, Derek felt almost at ease. The sentence wasn't usually something someone would say in the presence of an ex-master assassin.

As they arrived in the back of the hospital, Derek tuned in on the conversation inside. He heard arguing between Melissa and, oh shit, the sheriff. He quickly got out as Stiles followed. He hurried over to the others as they parked and got out. "Scott!" He called as he approached them. Scott turned to him. "Stilinski's in there."

Scott's eyes widened and looked back to the hospital. "What do we do?" He asked, almost to himself.

"You could go in and ask to talk to your mom in private." Allison suggested, looking between her boyfriend and the hospital.

As Stiles came up behind Derek, Scott nodded and walked towards the building. "Is everything alright?" He asked, startling Derek ever so slightly. He hadn't heard Stiles come over.

Derek knew that he was talking about the situation and not Scott's nervousness. "It's fine." Derek answered, lied, glancing over at him. Stiles stared at him for a heartbeat then looked away. Derek could tell that Stiles knew he was lying and that made him uneasy.

Scott soon opened up the door and gestured for them to come in. They all started walking towards the building. Derek could smell an uneasiness coming off of Stiles, hesitation mostly. Why, though? Why was Stiles so hesitant to go into the hospital, hell, even near it? Derek placed the thought into the corner of his mind, letting himself wonder about it later.

They all walked through the back entrance and into the back room. They saw Melissa standing at the end of the room, pacing a bit. "Mom," Scott called, gaining her attention.

She looked up and over at Scott, looking down the line before her eyes landed on Stiles. Derek was surprised that she hadn't bursted out crying yet. Her eyes glossed over with tears and sadness was beaming from her face. She quickly wiped the sadness off her face, however, and looked back over at Scott. If Stiles noticed anything, he didn't give any reaction nor response. She swallowed and sniffed once before walking over to Scott. Derek did the introduction instead of Scott. "Genim, this is Melissa." He said, gesturing vaguely to Melissa.

Stiles simply nodded, glancing over at Derek once. Derek continued, "She's going to help."

Again, Stiles only nodded. "I-I'll just check you wounds real quick." Melissa said tentatively, not noticing Stiles clench his jaw.

Once again, despite the scent of hesitance on him, Stiles nodded. Melissa copied his actions then lead him into the room behind the door near the front of the room. It turned out to be the morgue. The pack walked over to the door but didn't walk in. They were just cautious, knowing that Stiles could do some damage if he wanted or snapped. Derek watched as Stiles walked around the table and sat down on it, his back hunched. Melissa had grabbed a few medical tools and when she reached for one of the disinfectant bottles and pads, Stiles noticeably tensed. It made Scott stand up straighter, cautious. Derek had no doubt that Scott still trusted Stiles, but he knew that it didn't mean he could stand there if Stiles snapped on his mother.

Melissa turned to Stiles and blanched slightly. "I'm going to need to get to the wounds." Melissa said, then awkward added, "You're, uh... You're going to need to take off your shirt so I can get to the wounds."

Stiles nodded, and surprisingly, Derek smelled no annoyance or awkwardness coming off of him. Derek couldn't tell if it was because Stiles understood why he had to take off his shirt or he just followed the question. When Stiles pulled off his shirt, Derek was shocked. Stiles' back was covered--covered in scars. His back had scars over scars, crossed over one another. Some looked fresh--pink, red, and angry--and some looked old--faded, white, and closed. There was one big scar, however. It was a symbol, and it looked like it had been literally carved into Stiles' back. It made Derek sick. His arms weren't any better, covered in scars just like his back. The thought that Stiles was entirely covered in scars crossed Derek's mind, making his stomach churn as he added the thought of how he had gotten them.

Melissa noticed the scars too and stared. She quickly stopped, though, not wanting to make Stiles embarrassed or anything like that. She turned to the bandage around Stiles' torso and slowly reached out to unwrap it. Stiles tensed and sat up straighter, making Scott tense as well beside Derek. "It's okay." She told him softly, like a mother would to a frightened child. In a way, Stiles was. When Derek was there when he talked about why he smoked, he looked lost behind the eyes. He reminded Derek of a child.

Derek smelled surprise coming off of Stiles, as though he were surprised that Melissa was trying to reassure him that it's okay. Slowly, very slowly, Stiles let his back relax as well as his shoulders. He gave a small nod, then reached back and started to undo the bandage, which were bloody and dirty. The wounds on his back looked almost fresh, though not as bad as they had been. Melissa put some disinfectant onto a pad of cloth then slowly approached. Derek didn't know if Scott had told her about the situation they were in, but the way that she approached Stiles backed up the theory that Scott had told her. Melissa tentatively began to wipe the cloth across the wound. Stiles didn't even flinch, he just stared at the ground. Melissa worked quietly and quickly, though made sure that she didn't hurt him.

"Why are you doing this?"

The questioned startled them all, making them all look to Stiles. Melissa stopped cleaning the wounds and stared at him, confused. "What do you mean?" She asked, her voice soft.

Stiles must have looked up because his head seemed to move with his eyes. "Why are you helping me? Why are any of you helping me?" He asked, the scent of confusion rolling off him in thick waves.

"Because you deserve it." Melissa answered.

"I deserve to be dead." Stiles retaliated, deadpan.

It stunned and shocked all of them. He said it so seriously, and it sounded like he truly believed that, that he deserved to be dead. "Why's that?" Melissa asked, pushing the subject and beginning to clean the wound again.

Stiles stayed silent for a moment before he said (blurted, really), "I've killed more people than you can count."

The room fell silent, deathly silent. Melissa froze in place, her hand wavering above the wound. Slowly, very slowly, she looked up at Stiles. None of them could read her eyes or facial expressions. Finally she said, "Did you want to do it?"

"No--" Stiles started but she cut him off.

"Were you in control?" She asked.

"No--" He was cut off again.

"Then that wasn't you." She told him firmly as though she had been trying to tell him that for hours.

"B--" Stiles barely got a syllable out before she cut him off.

"It. Wasn't. You."

She emphasized each word, trying to get the message across to him. She truly did believe that if he wasn't in control and didn't want to do to, then it wasn't his fault. Stiles stayed silent, letting the silence settle back in. Derek could smell the surprise coming off him before saying something that made Derek believe that Stiles was still in there somewhere.

"Thank you."